Pepper Potts Is Not Okay
by Songbird's Tune
Summary: Pepper Potts is not okay. She'd been transported to another world for what seemed like an eternity, she's back, she's gained perspective (also: trauma.) She's popped the question. And oh! There's that thing with Thanos. [Series of One Shots]
1. Perspective

**PERSPECTIVE**

Pepper Potts didn't mean to fall into an alternate universe. She really, truly didn't. She had a thousand other priorities. Board meetings to panic over. Emails to respond to. Documents that needed signing. Appointments and meetings that needed to be kept. And her boss.

(That's how she thought of him – one word with a whole dictionary of definitions behind it.)

So it wasn't great that she was thrown – through circumstances entirely beyond her control. (Mutant struggling with new powers stumbles into a coffee shop. Huh. Sounds like the start to a joke. A TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE JOKE.)

Pepper wasn't egotistical, but you'd _think_ the world would stop and take note. PA to billionaire inventor, CEO, playboy etc Tony Stark goes missing, sucked into a Shakespeare in the Park-esque world. Boom! Tabloid news.

But the perfectly _sickening_ thing is … nobody notices. Not really. In the real world, Pepper flickered. But to Pepper, she was away for … _not_ a flicker. It was very _many_ flickers.

Words cannot do justice to her experience.

(There. Were. ELVES!)

She stands there – the moment she's flickered back and stares about herself – she's dressed in the same clothes, holding a coffee in one hand, Blackberry in the other. (It wasn't her body that the mutant-in-training sent away. It was her mind. Somehow, that just makes it _worse._ )

She stands in the coffee shop and hears the indie music playing, hears the hiss of the coffee machine (RUNNING WATER! Her brain screams), sees people – sees _humans actual humans oh thank you God -_ and barely keeps it together.

(The mutant who _did this to her_ has disappeared, scurrying out of the shop like she has monsters on her heels.)

Pepper retreats into the coffee room's bathroom and loses it completely.

She emerges an hour later with red eyes, a cold coffee, and a heart deep feeling of thankfulness for toilets that flush.

Her Blackberry has been having a panic attack, and it's only as she's pushing the door open that she looks down.

Tony Stark was due to attend a development meeting half-an-hour ago. It's kind of a big deal, she remembers dimly. Obi _really_ wanted him to be there.

Strangely, Pepper doesn't feel panicked.

She feels as if she has perspective for the first time in nine years.

(Is he in mortal danger of being slain by weird ninja gremlins? NO. Is he getting attacked by tree climbing elves with bad attitudes and no inside voice? NO. Is the entire world under threat by a horrendous disease that first makes your eyes burst, second makes your toes shrivel and thirdly turns your skin nice and blue and oh! _Dead?_ NO.)

Her phone is ringing and she answers it.

"Where's Tony?" Obi asks her. He sounds unhappy.

(Ogres that sing off-key with lyrics of 'Recipe For Consuming Humans After A Long Marination by Stungsting the Great? NO.)

"Unforeseen circumstances," Pepper says, shocked that she can speak English _and be understood._ "Leave it with me."

"I have," says Obi. She can feel the thin veneer of civilisation that is disguising the anger bubbling beneath. "Get him here, sweetheart."

Pepper leaves the coffee shop and panics. Because _where on earth did she park her car?_ Oh. There it is. Over there.

She calls Tony as she jogs over to it.

He doesn't answer. Pepper knows that she should feel annoyed. She doesn't. She just feels grateful. (THEY HAVE TELEPHONES HERE! NOT MESSENGER BIRDS! GLORY BE!)

"Tony," she says to the answering machine. "Hi. Hey. Tony. You have a meeting at three o'clock. I've been … erm … uh … ha … _delayed_ … Your suit is (OH SHOOT WHERE DID SHE PUT HIS SUIT?!) where it usually is. Look, Obi sounds angry so um get yourself over there okay bye."

She clicks the unlock button on her car key and … she's got the wrong car.

She stands beside it, stares down at and then it clicks. _She doesn't own a Jaguar._ She owns an Audi. Or at least, she thinks she does. Oh crap. Where is it?

She looks for far longer than she should do. And finds it right outside the coffee shop.

She climbs inside.

It will be just like riding a bike, she tells herself. Andnosheisnotpanicking.

Perspective.

Is this a horse that she's been expected to ride? No.

She gets to work – Tony's mansion because where _is_ he? – by nothing short of a miracle. She stays in the slow lane and everyone blares their horn at her. _Everything is moving so fast_. She can't get over it. She was stuck in a horse and cart once. For an entire week.

And now she travels so. Much. Faster and _how_ is she going to take this? Hmm? HOW?

She arrives and marches herself up to the door, looking at her Blackberry because she needs to know what she should have been doing. Or at least, that's what she tells herself. In reality, it's because the thought of seeing Tony Stark unsettles her stomach quite badly.

 _She missed him._

Nope. Don't think that.

Jarvis opens the door for her and she slips in.

"Jarvis," she asks. "Where is he?"

"At the development meeting scheduled at 15:00 hours," replies Jarvis promptly.

"How late was he?" she asks, because she can't help herself.

"Forty-five minutes. And may I say, Miss Potts, your message was quite bizarre. Are you well?"

She stares around her. At the luxury. At the sleek modernity of it all. She stares around her and stumbles to the couch in the living room, buries her head in her hands and _cries._

"Jarvis," she says, finally, which she can control herself once more. "Please tell Mr. Stark that I am having the day off. For menta- for health reasons."

"Might I summon a doctor for you, Miss Potts?"

The door closes behind her before she realises she forgot to say 'no'.

To say that Pepper gets lost on the way home, is to say that the moon is round. Both are facts. Hard, solid facts. Only Pepper's fact is embarrassing – she turns up outside the old foster home which was hell on earth, stares at it and then promptly does _not_ burst into tears.

Sat Nav.

Thank goodness for Sat Nav. She figures it out in the end.

That night, Pepper doesn't sleep. She doesn't sleep at all. No. She sits on her bed, surrounded by diaries from years back and her precious Blackberry and tries to work out who she is and how she is to behave around Tony.

(It's been a long time, even though technically, in this world's time, it was only this morning. Only to her it wasn't. It was a hundred mornings. A hundred hundred mornings even.)

She stays up all night and then – just before dawn – she seats herself on the floor, crosses her legs and tries to work out if what she learned in that Other Place translates into the Real World.

(It doesn't.)

(Damn them all.)

And then she goes to work. Clears out the trash. (She's proud of herself for that line – for the glint in her eye as she says it. Old Pepper has _style._ )

She doesn't feel put together when she goes downstairs. She manages to get out some drabble about a painting and is a little over eager with over the MIT presentation. (Look, she had to do homework last night. She's trying to fit it all in and sound natural.)

Tony doesn't remember to ask her how she is; Pepper would feel hurt if she doesn't feel so overwhelmed at the fact that _holy cow! Running water! Electronics! Life is beautiful!_

She controls her wonder and contains a blissful sigh at Tony's face – he doesn't have tusks.

(… yes. Pepper realises she's probably insane.)

But then, wonder of wonders, – just before he leaves – he _really_ looks at her.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

Pepper's mind goes blank.

(YES. PROBABLY EVERYTHING!)

"Yes," she says with a smile. "You. You're late for your plane."

"Come on, Pepper. Trying to get rid of me? Got plans?"

She tries to keep her smile contained. (It feels like an eternity has passed since she last saw him. And she is so _glad._ Also distraught and traumatised and very, very confused. But so glad.)

"Yes," she says. "With a glass of wine and a book."

"Oh," he says, his smile twisting up a little. "Exciting."

"Very."

(She's forgotten – it's her birthday. She'll remember, later.)

And off he goes, on his plane, to Afghanistan.

And Pepper is left to try and figure out _how, what, where, why and OH MY GOSH WHAT ON EARTH HAS HAPPENED TO ME?_

… this is interrupted by her boss, being so unhelpful as to go missing.

This is the nail in the coffin. The straw that breaks the camel's back. Pepper does not _break down._ No. Oh no. She is Virginia 'Pepper' Potts and she'd be damned before she let herself do something as foolish as _break down_.

No.

She simply closes a few emotional receptors and does her best impression of an emotionless robot. An emotionless robot who refuses to believe that Mr. Stark is _dead._

 **A BRIEF SUMMARY OF A DAY IN THE LIFE OF PEPPER POTTS, WHO IS [NOT] BREAKING DOWN:**

Wake up. Look at the ceiling.

 _(Chant: IAMNOTINSANE)_

Wash. Brush teeth. Dress. Apply make up. Don killer heels.

 _(Be mad because for months and months in the Other place she didn't wear heels. Except for her own heels and … the fact that she finds that funny is worrying. Her sense of humour, along with her sanity, has been downgraded.)_

Go to work.

 _(Jarvis, let's be honest here. How sane do you think I am? Actually. Don't answer that. I dreamt of Tony the other night. Actually, don't recall that. Wipe it. I dreamt of a gremlin too. A baby gremlin that tried to chew my finger. It tried to chew my finger OFF. Isn't that WEIRD? How COULD this HAPPEN?!_

 _Miss Potts?_

 _Jarvis. This whole conversation didn't happen._

 _I've taken the liberty of booking a therapist._

 _JARVIS I DO NOT NEED A THERAPIST._

 _…_

 _What time and where?)_

Answer emails. Keep the search for her boss going. Because he's not dead. He's not. He. Is. Not.

 _(She's got a whole world in her head, she survived that, and guess what? Tony Stark is not dead. If she can survive the Other place, Tony Stark. TONY STARK can survive … wherever he is.)_

Make phone calls. Make sure the house keeper is maintaining the house to perfection. Make sure that Dum-E is alive. Make conversation with JARVIS. Try a keep an eye on Tony's interests.

 _(She doesn't like Obadiah. He reminds her of Elnasym.)_

 _(She hated Elnasym.)_

Eat. If she remembers.

 _(Food in the Other place was … delicious. Therefore, she doesn't like delicious food anymore. Yo! Flashbacks, where you at?)_

Talk to Happy for a moment. ('He'll be back.' 'I know.')

 _(Yeah, she knows. Because … because he just is. Okay? Don't doubt her.)_

Return home. Sleep.

 _(… if she can.)_

Repeat.

Sometimes, she dreams of Mr. Stark. (It's a side effect from the Other place.) He's in a hard place. In the dark. He is in pain. He is anxious. Determined. He has hatred running through his veins. He is drowning.

Sometimes, she calls to him. Asking him to come back. Around him, her whole world was based. And now he's not here anymore. And she doesn't know how to rebuild. Doesn't know how to _start._

(She doesn't love him – anymore than the moon loves the earth. Anymore than plants lean towards the sun. Anymore than zits appear on wedding days. Anymore than brand new shoes hurt. Anymore than tea is better hot than cold. Anymore than … okay. So she's not great at analogies. Pepper doesn't think it's healthy. This dependence. Suddenly, Tony Stark becomes her sole source of sanity.)

(Therefore, she is of course, insane.)

And so she waits. And she dreams.

A month slips by … slowly, she learns to lick her wounds. Slowly, she learns to heal.

She asks JARVIS what's the likelihood of Mr. Stark returning home. ('Based on news reports, Miss Potts? 0.25 percent,' he says. 'You shut your mouth!' Pepper responds.)

Another month.

Hope is _not_ dwindling. But she is coping better. And vaguely aware that in a strange and awful way, she should be grateful that she has an _excuse_ for being this off centre. When he stops by – very briefly - Rhodes doesn't look at her strangely – he looks at her with pity.

But she doesn't give him the opportunity to express it. Instead, she just asks _what is he doing to find Tony?_

Another month.

And then _suddenly, miraculously, amazingly_ Tony Stark is alive on and on a plane and coming _home._

Pepper Potts … waits for him with red eyes and an attempt to conceal her smile. (It doesn't work.) He asks if she misses him.

She says no.

They both know that she's lying.

He's changed. Pepper Potts knows it. Heck, the whole world knows it. The press conference ('shutting down the weapons manufacturing division') proves it. And other things too, smaller, little things that she only notices because yes, he may have been gone months, and she longer, but nine years is a long time to know someone.

And she knows him as well as the back of her hand.

There is something harder about him – a tiny thread of anger. Or perhaps it is purpose. A hard, titanium thread of purpose that is as imbedded in his body (his soul) as the arc reactor is in his chest.

He looks at her differently too.

Says things that makes her wonder ' _was this how it was before?'_ (No. It isn't. She can't put her finger on _why_ it's different. But … it just is.)

And then, when he's calling her to _put her hand inside his chest_ … he says he doesn't have anyone but her. And also, 'Potts, you done this before? You're amazingly calm. Should have been a surgeon.'

(In the Other place, she once had to thrust her hand inside an orc. That was infinitely more gross, and yet this experience was infinitely more terrifying because this is Mr. Stark. He could _die.)_

Now he's back – even though he asks her to spy for her, to blow up a building for her – she feels centred. Focused.

And when it dawns on her that he is choosing to be a _hero._ To do _good._ To be _better._

Then she chooses.

In the Other place, they have a tradition – when you find someone who is an Earth Shaker. Who is _changing_ things for the better – you can swear an oath to them. To stand by them when all else falls away. When the world burns around you. When the world is lonely and the way unclear and the storms are strong … you stand by them.

And Pepper looks at her boss and chooses.

Not because she loves him she is attracted to him. Not because she's already dedicated nine years of her life to him. Not because they danced. ( _She will not think of this._ ) Not because of the paycheck or anything else.

No.

She looks at him, after he goes and says 'oh by the way _I am Iron Man_ and yeah! I sure do love to make life _a living PR hell for Potts'_ (paraphrase). She looks at him and sees him for who he is.

(Playboy. Billionaire. Philanthropist. Has Daddy issues. Has a kind heart. A wish to do the right thing. A killer sense of humour. An ego the size of Everest.)

And still she chooses.

She'll stand by him. She'll swear an oath. (She does it under her breath, feeling like an insane idiot.) Whatever happens. He'll have her by his side.

Because yes, she loves – loved – her job. It was always a challenge; trying to make Mr. Stark's life as smooth and functioning and as _responsible_ as possible. But that's slipped away a little. And though she'll still be an efficient PA (a _damn_ good PA, even though she says so herself). This is something more.

Because now she sees – a flicker in time here, months and months in the Other place – that in life, you have to pick something. A cause. Truth. Something to believe in. Something better than yourself. And she doesn't think she can change the world herself, or make that much of a difference. (Sure, she can slightly affect the way Stark Industries run. Slightly) But she can help someone who does. Who is in the position to do so much good.

Forget being a nice little PA. She's going to be a damn bodyguard and subtle cheerleader and right-hand woman and the most absolutely amazing assistant the world has ever seen.

Pepper realises that life is all about perspective.

She's just found hers.

* * *

 _I HAVE NO RAGRETS!_


	2. Avoidance

Look. Here's the quick blow-by-blow account: Pepper Potts was thrown into an alternate world just before the first Ironman movie took place. In her world, she was gone for a few moments, in reality - she was gone for far longer. This gave her perspective. This also gave her a huge load of OH MY GOSH WHAT THE HECK that she's never confronted. She's still dealing with it.

Also, I am having enormous fun.

* * *

 **Avoidance**

In between the whole 'I am Ironman', Tony nearly _dying_ (which, let's be honest, if she hadn't have sworn an _oath_ to stand by his side – not his _company's_ side – but _his_ side, she wouldn't have noticed as quickly as she did. Which admittedly wasn't as fast as she _should_ have done – and she still blames herself for that – but at least she managed to ask _what the heck, Tony?_ when he decided to make her into the actual CEO of- ah- _hem_. Where was she? Oh yes.) and the actually _crazy_ events that were now the _normal reality of her life …_

(!)

… Pepper Potts hasn't had any time to tell Tony what happened.

This is a lie – she's had plenty of time and opportunity and she's pretty sure that he has several theories as to why she occasionally has nightmares, is deathly afraid of fantasy movies, and flinches every time she sees anything to do with Lord of the Rings and (strangely enough) Paddington Bear.

(He finds that hilarious.)

(She does not.)

But she's excellent at hiding things – if not from the world – then from herself.

 **CASE IN POINT:**

… that time in Monaco when she leapt from the car and opened a can of ineffective _whoopass_ on Vanko. It didn't actually work, and she ended up looking like an idiot and having a nice scar on her leg, but afterwards, when Tony went all ' _what the hell were you thinking?!'_ she told him she was just doing her job. (' _I'm sorry, did you confuse your job description with Happy's – what the HELL were you thinking?'_ )

( _'Saving you, you absolute IDOT.')_

(' _I DIDN'T NEED SAVING, YOU NEEDED TO HAND ME THE SUITCASE'_ )

(' _Oh my gosh! You are SO ungrateful!'_ )

And then there was the omelette and 'oh I'm dying, also _what's been happening with you?'_ but Pepper was proud of the way she managed to be so outraged that _you were dying and you didn't tell me?_ that she never had to answer the question.

Boom! Pepper Potts, Mistress of Hiding (wow, that's … not the greatest title she's ever come up with) strikes once more.

(She avoids the fact that JARVIS has a file that she _accidentally_ overheard Tony referencing. He's called it 'The Pepperton Bear Case' which is the height of humour. Not.)

After the whole Extremis thing ('Extremis thing' is an understatement. But if Pepper _really_ thinks about what happens … she'll overthink it. She refuses to overthink it.) Tony keeps looking at her, expecting her to break down or at least _panic._ Pepper does neither. She doesn't even bat an eyelid.

 _That was really violent,_ she remarks and then they go to- well, not home (that's destroyed) but to a hotel somewhere and Tony has such a lot that he needs to tell her and she can turn into a fireball and sure, that needs to be fixed, but it's not the strangest thing that's happened to her. (Okay. It's in the top five.)

 **TOP FIVE STRANGEST THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED TO PEPPER POTS:**

1\. That time when that mutant did that thing to her where she went to a different world _for an actual eternity._

2\. That one time in Bangkok where Tony- (She's blanked this one out because of what happened to the ballet. As in, _the entire ballet company._ Also, the property damage which she _still_ get stomach ulcers thinking about.)

3\. That time that elf prince tried to take her forearm hair to make a love potion for his prize stud and mare so that the Line Of The Mighty Stallion Medmortli would continue. (Seriously, why on earth would 'the forearm hair of a ginger' be on any _list_ of ingredients?) _AND THEN_ when she protested about the absurdity of it, they tried to put the hair _back._ Pepper had no words. No. That wasn't true. She had plenty. None of which were coherent.

4\. That time Pepper was plunged into the Library Of Doom where _nothing_ was organised and if you did organise it, _it would become undone_ and do _not_ get her started on the Scholars. They would ramble around the point FOREVER which was _not_ what Pepper has ever done but goodness gracious! She was stuck in there for. three. whole. months.

5\. Extremis. (Okay. So this is more like number two. But _she's not going to overthink this._ )

Pepper undergoes three surgeries and four courses of Tony-designed drugs to be completely recovered. And sure, the surgeries are a pain (ha, literally) and the drugs make her loopy for days, during which …

Well.

She may have slipped up a little.

"Tony," she says, curled up on a couch.

"Hmmm, Pepper?"

"You know what I hate about elves?"

"I don't know. Tell me. What do you hate about elves? Their pointy ears? Perfect hair? OH! Are we talking about Smurfs? Would you call Smurfs elves?"

Pepper doesn't open her eyes. The sun is shining through the window. Tony is somewhere near her, concentrating on the plans that she'll have to organise and arrange one hundred thousand things and it'll be so much _work_ and in the mean time she's going to lie here, let the drugs work in her system, and do _nothing_.

Nothing except explain:

"Their eyelashes, Tony. Their eyelashes are so _perfect_ and it's _sickening_ and do you want do know something, Tony?"

"Enlighten me."

Pepper opens her eyes (the light is painful but she powers through because: _outrage_ ) and lifts her head an inch. "They're FAKE!"

There's a gasp. "NO!"

"Uh-huh. FAKE Tony! And I'm there feeling all ugly and dumpy like, like a PEACH-"

"You mean like a pepper."

"-and then they have the AUDACITY to say _that I have freckles._ I mean it's TRUE."

"Um. One, how dare they. Two, I love your freckles."

"Thank you, Tony. But they actually, naturally, _don't have any eyelashes._ "

"Huh. Weird."

Pepper drops her head back onto the couch. "You better be glad I was willing to leave them. Spider's legs! Why would they use _spider's legs_?!"

Sleep kicks in after that. The quiet that follows is interrupted by Tony's voice: "JARVIS, did you catch that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Add the audio recording to the Pepperton Bear Case and check if a dose of 2.5 milligrams of Hyprealivik would result in hallucinations."

"Of course, sir."

She doesn't remember telling Tony about the elves, and if she does, she avoids it.

Because some truths ( _Tony was dying, she nearly was too)_ outweigh others ( _oh my gosh she has so many issues that she should probably confront)_ … no. Well. Yes.

Let's rephrase that:

Some truths have to be confronted, dealt with, faced.

Other truths are just easier to avoid.

Like an ostrich, Pepper is burying her head in the sand.

(Though JARVIS would probably correct her: burying their heads in the sand is a common misconception when it comes to ostriches.)

 _Un_ like an ostrich, Pepper is burying her head in the metaphorical sand; if she can't look at the memories and the invisible scars etched on her soul and mind … they won't be there.

She's _fine._

Totally _fine._


	3. Matrimony

**Matrimony**

"Hey, Pepper?" Tony says to her. It's Date Night. They are outside, on the terrace of that new Italian restaurant.

Pepper isn't concentrating on the excellent wine or scrumptious food. She hasn't even noticed the live orchestra that plays in the room behind them, nor the stars that glimmer so brightly in the night sky above them.

No.

Pepper Potts is deep in her own mind: Tony had nearly died the day before. A mission gone wrong – an unexpected explosion, terrible odds, and a nice little surprise ambush at the end.

It had been all over the media (IRONMAN DEAD? And a thousand other headlines in a similar vein) and to make matters worse – JARVIS had been offline.

There had been no contact from Tony.

All she had was the same footage that everybody else did – the quick red flash of the Ironman, the boom of an explosion, the rapid thud of gunfire, horrified yells of the victims and then dust and smoke and silence.

She'd been sick with fear. But she'd arranged for a doctor to be on standby for when ( _not_ if) Tony returned, prepped the medbay, started the arrangements for a clean-up crew to attend the site (she had several who were always ready to go at a moment's notice), contacted the head of Stark Industries PR department, called Rhodey for information (none was available), glanced through the minutes of SI's annual budget meeting (not that she read a single word), and then paced up and down, up and down, waiting for Tony to call her.

To arrive, safe and sound, with a witty one liner.

But the hours had dragged by.

And there was no Tony.

By midday, she'd thrown up twice.

In her heart of hearts she acknowledged that if she hadn't have sworn that oath (to always, always stand by Tony) this would have been the last straw that broke the camel's back.

The stress was too much – she could almost _feel_ the ulcers forming in her stomach.

She would have been ready to throw in the towel, calling the day on a task that was increasingly impossible for her to do.

But she'd sworn an oath. And that _meant_ something. And in that Other place, where she'd spent far, far too much time (through no fault of her own) worse things had happened.

But the only difference was that she hadn't loved anybody there – had never feared for a loved one's safety and had never felt so utterly helpless. (She wanted to scream with it – the helplessness. The knowledge that whatever she did right then _it wouldn't make a difference to Tony's being alive or dead. It was out of her hands._ )

She'd stood there, waiting. Because even if she couldn't cope, she could pretend to.

And when eventually Tony did arrive – bruised and battered but blessedly _alive –_ she'd scolded him for missing the budget meeting.

"Sorry about that, Pep," Tony had said. "I was in the middle of something."

"So is Stark Industries. In the middle of a crisis."

Tony had looked up – weariness in his eyes - and his gasp was a pale echo of what it usually was. "No! Break it to me gently – are we going under? Declaring bankruptcy?"

"Yes," Pepper had said, keeping a keen eye on the doctor as he stitched up a nasty cut on Tony's side. She tried not to look into Tony's eyes too deeply. She was afraid that she would break down in tears and weep and yell at him for making her so ill with fear.

That night, she didn't sleep a wink; she kept on imagining what it would be like for Tony to actually die. She felt herself peering over the edge of a cliff. If she fell over, she knew, into that dark pit of grief, there would be no coming back for her.

She was so very tired of fear.

But she's sworn an oath. And in that Other place, she'd learned – if you swore an oath, you kept it. Even if it slowly killed you. You toughed it out. You clenched your teeth, tilted your chin and glared your fear in the face and _dared it_ to break you.

Pepper isn't quite at that stage, but she is contemplating how to reach it tonight, on Date Night. So her mind is quite far away and she still hasn't been able to look Tony quite in the eye. Her eyes seemed to skitter off to the side last night, even after the doctor had left, when she'd asked _was it bad?_ and _what can I do?_

(She was actually asking: _Will it be worse next time?_ And _let me do something – anything – that won't leave me feeling helpless to aid you._ )

 _"_ Pepper? Seriously? Are you mad at me? I feel like you're mad at me. Is it the orchestra? Damn it. It's the first violinist – isn't it?"

Pepper has to shake her head a little and close her eyes for just a moment. And then, when the thoughts of that Other place are shaken off, and her eyes are prepared for meeting his, she looks at him.

"Yes?"

He's looking at her, concern hidden in his gaze.

"We okay?" he asks, in that startling direct way he can sometimes use.

Pepper glances upwards – up at the stars – and then back to him.

"You know something, Tony?" She leans forward, takes up his hand in both of hers. "I think we are."

He leans forward, brushing aside their wineglasses and dinner plates.

"Wow, that was oddly dramatic," his lip is twitching and he is looking at her in that old way – in the way he did before shadows and demons hounded at his heels. "But I'm glad you finally reached that conclusion. It's only taken you, what?" A faux glance at his wrist. "All evening. You didn't even notice the dessert."

"What dessert?"

They're so close now it's impossible to move closer, with the table in the way.

"Gelato. Your favourite."

"Tony, that's _your_ favourite."

"So it is. But, you know, it's a world-wide favourite. Must be yours too."

"Tony?"

"That's my name. I'm glad you remember it. Might have forgotten it in all that not talking you did earlier."

"It's called thinking."

"It's called ignoring me. Thanks, by the way."

"Let's get married."

He draws back a little, she draws back a little. As if she's dropped a bomb in-between them, right onto the tablecloth.

She looks at him and finds herself not regretting the question at all. She'd sworn to always be by his side, after all. And if she's going to look fear in the face and dare it to break her, she's going to do it properly.

But those kind of thoughts are quickly lost because Tony has a smile tugging at his lips. It starts slowly (hesitantly, like he can't believe what she's asking) growing larger until it's just she and him (the man she loves more than anything or anyone on this earth and beyond) and happiness glimmering between them.

"Why, Miss Potts," he says. "I thought you'd never ask."

Happy has a ring – has been keeping it for Tony since 2008, it turns out. The wedding is small – quick, but not hurried. And Pepper thinks of that Other place and is – for the first time – grateful for being sent there. It takes bravery to love, and courage to hold on to someone. To be steadfast. And that Other place has given her perspective – given her confidence in that if she survived _there,_ she can thrive here.

(She hasn't recovered from what's happened – perhaps she never will – but just because she's scarred doesn't mean that she's broken.)

(But if she is broken, maybe Tony is a tiny bit broken too. And maybe – just maybe – they can be just a little bit broken together. And who knows – maybe become whole? Together?)

* * *

 _sandboxes are fun to play in, huh?_


	4. Repetition

**REPETITION**

Pepper goes for a jog early one day; she's on vacation – the first one in _years_ \- (and yes, it's only a 'one morning vacation' but _semantics_.) and she's determined to enjoy it.

She's left the Avengers compound and spent the night in New York. (She had a business meeting the day before and thought – why not make the most of it?)

Tony is still putting himself back together after the events of the Sokovia Accords (if Pepper hears those words again she'll do something violent. Like kick a piece of furniture.) Pepper doesn't quite know how to fix him, so she's stayed by his side. Just being there.

Wherever he has gone, she has gone.

Except for the toilet.

(That's a step to far.)

And except for those times when he's in his workshop or hanging with Rhodey (who is _slowly_ getting better).

Today … today she feels that she needs some time alone. True, years ago, after she first flickered and Ironman was born (the two events were not linked though both were _somewhat_ traumatic) she swore an oath that she would always stand by Tony's side … but she's been doing that for years now.

The longest amount of time she's been away from him has been two days. Two. Days. And even then she was sick with worry – so she doesn't like to count that time.

Today … ah … today is a day just for her. To recharge her batteries, to remember _her –_ Pepper Potts - and to have a day not thinking. Not having thoughts of that Other place nipping at her heels. Not to feel the absolute _agony_ that rests on her shoulders every time she looks at Tony.

He pretends that he's coping with what happened. That he can _deal_ with it. But late at night, he lies in her arms – or doesn't (he's often sleepless) - she thinks: _I would have left him. If I hadn't have flickered I wouldn't be here – I would have seen the danger and realised that I couldn't cope with it._

So – in this case – she's almost glad she flickered. Because it taught her that danger and fear and worry and hurt and hate … you can't avoid them, in life.

You have to accept that they are as much part of life as breathing.

You have to slap a smile on your face and say _yes, this hurts, yes I can't breathe with the fear of it, but … this is only for a while. A little while._

 _This, too, will pass._

It's all about perspective.

And she chose Tony.

She chose and chooses and will always choose, to stand by him.

Because he can do good and she sees him (beneath the ego, beneath the quick one-liners, beneath the wealth and the issues that cling from his upbringing) for who he is, and who he can be.

(And – you know, totally beside the point – she's quite desperately in love with him and they're married and to lose him would to lose everything that makes life worth living.)

She chose him.

(But sometimes she can't see herself anymore – past the memories of the Other place, past _Tony_ , past everything.)

Today is for her. Just for her.

Today, her sneakers hit the paving and the sounds of traffic echo around her. The sky is very blue and the air is crisp – fall is announcing its imminent return. She finally feels a little at … peace.

Yes, she's never told him about her long and unexpected jaunt into a different universe. But she's totally _fine._

Well, not really fine, but almost fine.

Well, just … she's a … distant cousin of fine.

She jogs onwards, ignoring the people who rush past her, concentrating on her footfalls and a sudden thought:

 _Is_ _ **not**_ _telling him a barrier between the two of them? Will it help him if she tells him – tells him she can relate to having her world turned upside down, that she's suffered pain – so much pain – and so much fear and worry and sickening anxiety that she'llnevergethomeshe'sstuckhereforever …_

Pepper runs even faster, turning a corner and pelting down the sidewalk. Maybe, if she runs fast enough she'll outrun these memories.

But haha! She runs into someone. Slap bang into someone and sends them both tumbling to the ground.

(FATE STRIKES AGAIN!)

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Pepper exclaims, getting to her knees.

The woman she knocked over sits up.

She looks at Pepper and Pepper (naturally) looks back.

 **WHY PEPPER DOESN'T [USUALLY] SWEAR**

In the Other place … there was this innkeeper who was cursed and every time _he_ swore, his tongue would split. Which was well and dandy and _so very very weird_ until he stubbed his big toe and swore for three entire minutes. His tongue was split into one hundred wiggling individuals and Pepper's face still contorts whenever she remembers the disturbing sight.

The man was the Medusa of Tongues.

(And yes. Pepper is traumatised. _It just looked so wrong!_ )

(Tony would probably love this short anecdote.)

But in this moment, Pepper does curse. Well. Like a _toddler_.

"Mother _fudger!_ You!"

"Bloody hell! You!"

Two voices speak at once.

The woman gets up and _legs it_ and Pepper – who probably should run the other way, but doesn't because the years may not have given her bravery, but they've given her a thirst for knowledge – chases her.

She runs and runs and thinks that she's lost track of HER when suddenly, the mutant veers off to the left, down a conveniently placed alley-like path and Pepper follows her.

Pepper probably should follow strangers into dark-ish alley-like places.

But she does and so there's that.

And when she does – the mutant is standing there, not even a bit out of breath (come on! How is that _fair_?!)

Pepper doesn't exactly say anything coherent – the sounds that come out of her mouth are a mixture of _how? You! WHY DID YOU DO THAT? Wha-!_

The mutant is slim, short, with bright pink hair and a celtic tattoo over her left eyebrow. She is also glaring at Pepper.

"You!" she says with considerable loathing.

"Yes," says Pepper. "What the _hell_ did you do to me?"

"I did something to _you? What the hell did you do to ME?"_

Pepper gapes like a fish. 'Wait. _What?"_

 _"_ You took everything from me! And get your husband off my back - I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU WENT, OKAY?! And guess what, idiot, I didn't do it on PURPOSE!"

Pepper's mouth is wide open. "Okay. Wow. You're really aggressive and I am not an idiot and 'my husband off your back' is Tony in contact with you? Is he, uh, asking questions?"

"Five months ago. He came by, asking questions. Asking about what happened. As if _I_ knew what happened?! AND HE HAS ME FOLLOWED I SWEAR."

Pepper finds herself apologising. (She's not sure why.) "Well, I'm sorry about- wait. No, I'm not. You ruined my life. I still have nightmares. I can't watch Lord of the Ring's for heaven's sake!"

The woman steps forward, stabbing a finger at Pepper. "You took my _energy_. Two seconds _and I was drained._ " Each word is punctuated by a footstep. "Give. It. Back."

Pepper takes a step back. " _How?"_

The mutant stops. She looks confused. "You know, like, give it back to me."

" _How?_ Like regurgitation? You want me to, to regurgitate the, the energy that … that-" Pepper throws her hands up in the air. "That's not how energy works."

The mutant pauses. Thinks. "It's how _this_ energy works."

Pepper's face becomes almost cartoonish. "Eh?"

"Just, give it back. Okay?"

"I didn't know there _was_ anything to give back!" Pepper says, and flinches because suddenly, the mutant is putting her hands on both sides of Pepper's head.

One moment, Pepper is standing in an almost alleyway, location: Planet Earth. The next? The next she's standing on a dark landscape, beneath a starless sky.

The mutant drops her hands from her head. Her face is full of betrayal. "It won't come back."

Pepper is trying not to scream. Her jaw has dropped and she does a full turn to take in … everything. It looks like whoever made this place took inspiration from the colour schemes of black and very dark grey.

"Where are we?" she demands. Reality sinks in. "Oh my GOSH! WHERE ARE WE?"

The mutant glances about her. "No idea. Probably the place between places. I don't care. Do you want to know what I _do_ care about? MY ENERGY. THE ENERGY BELONGING TO ME. THE ENERGY THAT YOU TOOK."

"OH MY GOSH, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ARE YOU SURE IT'S PHSYCALLY POSSIBLE?"

They are both yelling at each other; two small figures in a large, desolated plain.

"I HAVE TO HAVE IT."

"-I MEAN IF THE ENERGY HAS BEEN USED HOW CAN IT RETURN?"

"I HAVE TO SAVE THE WORLD!"

"IS IT RENEWABLE? BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT ISN'T RENEWABLE."

"I HAVE TO STOP HIM."

"I CAN'T REGURGITATE YOUR ENERGY!"

"I HAVE TO STOP THANOS."

"AND HOW IS THE PLACE BETWEEN PLACES? IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!"

"Listen. Shut up. Just SHUT UP! Our world is doomed, okay? _Doomed._ Half the whole damn population is going to _die._ But I" and the mutant jabs her own chest "can save it. All I need is my energy back. From you. Which you took."

Pepper shakes her head a little. Feels her pony tail shake behind her. She's trying not to freak out. Really, really trying. But …

"I don't know how to give it back to you, whatever it is you want. And, and are we really doomed? Who is Thanos? Oh and _can we go back now?_ "

The mutant huffs and looks up to the sky, as if pleading for help. "One, fine – I'll try _take_ my energy back. Again. Two, yes. We're screwed. And c, we're in the place between places and it'll spit us out when it wants to."

"That's three, _not_ c- and _what the hell do you mean it will 'spit' us out when-"_

There's no snap. One blink of the eye, one sharp breath to keep _not_ yelling out her panic, and they're back on Earth, in the not alleyway.

Pepper could almost cry with relief.

She doesn't.

She screams.

The mutant's arms are folded. She's glaring. If looks could kill, Pepper would be dead. "It spit us out like that. And do you know why it does that?"

Pepper doesn't know why it does that. She doesn't _want_ to know why it does that. She wants to go home, crawl into bed and never come out from under the covers again.

"Because I took your energy?" she guesses with a sigh, she's verging on hysteria but is desperately trying to keep it together. Which is kind of hard at the moment.

"Yes. Because you took my energy. All I have are dreams, merging with the time stream, and flickering for like, three seconds in random ass planets as random ass people. Are you happy?" The mutant throws out her hands. "Look what you've made me." She turns to the side – to both sides – as if addressing an audience. "Behold your creation!"

"Well, I'm sorry about that but I didn't mean to. Also-" and Pepper Potts has never been a hero. She's never even thought herself as one. Never considered it. But when you've been around the Avengers enough, their way of thinking rubs off on you. Their priorities do to. "Who is Thanos and, and how do you know that-"

"That half of the world's population is going to disappear? Because Scott Lang told me and I have to stop it."

" _Who_?"

"You know, the Ant-man."

Pepper's jaw drops. That's _classified_ information. How does this woman know how … who ….

"I'm going to try take my energy again," says the mutant. "And then I'm going to go to another universe with a similar timestream, find out how to rescue that one, and then come back and save ours. Oh by the way, _you're welcome._ Also, I'm doing this at great risk to myself – I could go forward or backwards in time, and posses just about _anybody's_ body, and if I get eaten by a T-rex, _I blame you."_

She raises her hands.

To say Pepper has a bad feeling about this would be an understatement.

The mutant raises her hands and Pepper _feels_ something in her shift. Leap out and collide with whatever the mutant is doing.

And then the world shifts.

Pepper's eyes snap open and she looks down. And guess what _?_

No. Really.

 _Guess._

She's purple. She's _purple_. She's wearing _blue_ … spandex? She looks like ABBA had a love child with Elvis and David Bowie. Thoughts alien to her are running through her brain. One moment, she's Pepper Potts, the next _she knows everything_ _ **he**_ _knows._

She's on another planet – looking out on an infinity of stars.

She's in a different _body_.

His name is Thanos and he's in love with Death and _oh by the way he's just about to snap his fingers to erase half of life in the universe._

He's about to.

But in one instant, Pepper Potts _sees_ him (She doesn't understand him though. She doesn't understand how anybody could be in love with _Death_. She doesn't _get_ him. Or how DEATH IS A PERSON BUT LET'S NOT THINK ABOUT THAT) And she sees _him -_ who he is and why he is and what he's about to do.

Genocide.

Genocide on a scale which no one could even comprehend.

( _She_ can't comprehend it … but she tries to.)

(She's not a hero. And Tony isn't here. But suddenly she can _do_ something. In the Other place, she never could. In her world, she clung to Tony. He was the centre around which she orbited. But now … it's just her, in this place, faced with a decision which Tony will never know of.)

(She chooses.)

(Because she may be a little broken, she may be a little mad, she may not even be a hero. But she knows what is right and she knows what is very, very _wrong_.)

Thanos finds himself screaming like a little girl.

And Pepper Potts snaps his fingers.

And a single life blinks out of existence.

* * *

i know whAT THE HECK WAS THAT? that, my friends, was my brain relaxing and Spewing Out Things.

i make no apologies.

(Movie-verse Pepper saving the comic book version of the Infinity Wars? Pfft. Why not.)


	5. Divergence

**DIVERGENCE**

Pepper-As-Thanos snapped her fingers. A life blinked out of existence.

And for one moment – agonizing and awful, in an in-between place that isn't and shouldn't – she sees him, no _herself,_ die. Too many times to count.

He's sitting on a throne in one of them. No, in forty of them. He's working a red earth in another. He's facing down people she thinks she recognizes. He's standing. He's sitting. He's crawling. He's fighting. He's killing.

It zooms by.

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

Death and more death and more death and more death.

For a being in love with Death herself, Thanos goes into her embrace countless times. And each time there is no heady satisfaction of attaining his goal – he didn't sacrifice half of all living things to her, after all.

He was foiled. Again and again and again.

And Pepper watches and feels each death. Each fade-into-nothingness.

She feels it and doesn't think at all.

And then she's suddenly standing in a street, staring blankly at a brick wall. The mutant – the girl who started this, and now has seemingly finished this too – has vanished.

Pepper staggers, slaps a hand against the brick wall to steady herself. How many times must her world be turned upside down? How many times must the strange, the bizarre, the extraordinary _happen_ to her?

First the Other place, now – this.

She throws up.

She's too sturdy to faint. She yanks out her phone. Calls for a car to come and pick her up. Her mind is mercifully blank.

She can still remember his thoughts – they are sitting in her brain. So many thoughts. A dead Titan is in her head and she doesn't know how to get him out.

She has no idea where Tony is. For once, she cannot remember. She stumbles into her home. Tries to do some calming breathing exercises.

Miraculously, she finds her bed.

And in it – oblivion.

"Pepper?"

A voice she knows but can't hear.

"PEPPER!"

Nothing.

She dreams of worlds. Of futures that could have been and won't anymore. She dreams of a baby. Of a name.

She dreams of loss. Of gain.

Of victory. Of failure.

She dreams and feels a gut-wrenching grief.

She dreams again and sees a woman whose scalp is bald, gaze is calm and knowing, garments like that of a monk's.

 _It was you then,_ the woman says. _It was very brave of you. The universe is saved from a dreadful fate._

Pepper doesn't speak, she just stares. It's her dream, after all. And she doesn't want to respond.

 _You touched time itself. Other realities. For one second, you saw everything. Sleep now, Mrs. Stark. I will make sure your mind doesn't fracture. Sleep._

She sleeps and doesn't dream any more.

She wakes up and there is Tony. He looks haggard, old.

He puts his arms around her and clings as though he would never let her go.

 _What a long way we've come_ , says Pepper.

"Pepper," says Tony. "You've got to _tell_ me."

And suddenly, Pepper can't remember any of her reasoning for _not_ telling him – about the Other place. Of where she's just been.

"Tony," she says. And that one word, that one name holds so much meaning for her.

Home.

Love.

Everything.

"Can I tell you a story?"

It takes a long time, but Tony believes her – he had his own theories, after all. They were almost correct. (The Pepperton Bear Case is solved. She tells him that was an awful name but can't keep the smile out of her voice.) She tells him about Thanos and sees the worry lines around his face relax.

He is very quiet for a long time after that. Thoughtful.

"I'll be pregnant," she tells him after a while.

"Seeing the future too, Potts?" he asks.

Pepper smiles at him. "I have."

She saw the grief it could have held. Saw the joy it will now bring, untempered by a snap and a declaration that echoes that very first one: _I am Ironman._

(She was right – wasn't she? All those years ago. To stay with him. To stand by him. Tony Stark is, was, and will be a good man to his very last breath. Not unflawed. Not perfect. But she loves him fiercely anyway and she thinks - no, she _knows_ \- she always will.)

"It's good, Mr. Stark," she tells him with a smile. "It's _very_ good."


End file.
